When the Day Would Come
by masque queen
Summary: (et) sequel to when we really are alone. revised. READ AND REVIEW. (love me and do me a favor and just read and review it) Some things come and we cannot stop it. What else can we do, but watch, have our heart break, and move on... or get drunk, in t


** When The Day Would Come**

By- _masque queen_ (f.k.a. never be normal)

(so I said I was a one-shot. Shoot me. here's the sequel to _When We Really Are Alone_ Have fun.

* * *

_There are things that will come. Things that are ordained by fate. Things that will not be stopped. Things—just too big and too powerful._

* * *

- 

It has been nearly three years.

And as time did come, Tomoyo was inevitably losing her beloved Sakura to Syaoroan. Losing her to a fabulously, magnificent fanfare of ceaseless brilliance. A brilliance administered exclusively by the one and only Li family. And while, everyone else seemed to enjoy themselves, Tomoyo sat at the bride's table, quiet and rather forlorn on a day that no one should be. For after all, with hundreds of young men (world wide connections of the prominent Li family, of course), it was impossible to have a shortage of dance partners.

But it wasn't so. She wasn't forlorn at all. She had other things she'd rather thing about. She had her _I'm-concentrating_ face on.

Yet, even with the dauntless and almost, threatening expression upon her fair face, no sane man could resist or refrain from at least trying. Thus, as the celebration continued, hundreds of young men fell to her feet, in the hopes of winning the statuesque heiress.

She, however, did not care for any of the abilities they had to offer. Nothing they said or tried impressed her. Furthermore, she was not a prize to be claimed. No trophy wife. No goddess to be tampered with. So as she refuted them all, She did so in such a polite and kind manner that no man turned away could hate her for doing so. And so, without further ado, she sat in her ponderous state.

Today, she understood, was not a day for Sakura to notice and ask her what matters troubled her mind. It was Sakura's day, after all. A day, which meant, without Sakura to notice her friend, Tomoyo would be yet another sculpture groveled over and critiqued. With this day, she miserably thought, the chances of Sakura ever realizing how much she loved her was put to a slumber. And though, she was mentally ready to move on, the tugging in her heart refused to allow it.

But then, something in the wind changed and she felt an unnerving presence stand behind her. This time, it wasn't anyone waiting to grovel at her feet. No. Never. This man—he was much too classy to ever do such a thing. Nor needed to.

"Shouldn't you be dancing with all these fine young men?"

The voice. So familiar. So close to home. So wonderful. Once, so endearingly rich with admiration and love. All of a sudden seemed to mock her. There was no need to turn around. She knew that the voice so very well already. It just took her a moment to divide the curtains within her mind and remember who stood behind it.

She closed her eyes.

" I don't need this today, Eriol. I don't need any of this."

He found an unoccupied chair and lifted it weightlessly, gracefully setting it down in front of Tomoyo. And with that same grace, he sat down with an effortless sophistication. No words were exchanged during that period until it was long enough that he found it was he who needed to initiate the conversation.

" Won't you look at me?"

He leaned over to catch her attention. " Not even a glance?"

_No, Eriol. Not even a glance._

He sighed. Not an exasperated sigh. More like a sigh that couldn't exactly be explained, but a sigh that he made often and a sigh Tomoyo knew all too well.

" You look bloody radiant tonight." A taunting smile upon his perfect features.

That caught her attention. Sentimental-over-used phrases crackling with pitifulness never failed to catch her attention. And once she turned her head, she met his eyes. And she knew he had won… again. For, indeed, it was quite hard to escape his captivating eyes. Nor was it… really—exactly possible. He had that ability—that charm. It was hard for anyone to tear away, much less her.

But he blinked, the spell fell through, and she was able to look away.

" Do you enjoy provoking me?"

A lift of his eyebrows and he spoke. " Me? Of course not. Never."

She nodded her head, feeling the awkwardness between them. It was odd—a feeling never felt before between her and Eriol.

" Why are **you** here, anyways?"

Was that a hint of scorn he had just heard? Perhaps… but Eriol knew she was in no normal mood and simply took a sip of his wine and placed it down neatly upon the glazed table silk.

" For the same reasons that you are, I suppose…"

He watched her intently and this time, she did not even attempt to respond.

And it was then that everything became very silent. So very, very silent. He picked up his wine glass again and as if on cue, a waiter came by and poured him another glass.

" Here, you'll want some of this." _A gentleman as always._

She took a long, hard glare at him and then at the glass. Anything that came from him now made her suspicious.

" What exactly do you want from me? We are over, remember? Has the great Clow Reed found dissatisfaction in the world, already? Came back for a shag or two?"

He immediately withdrew his hand, knowing that it would be a mistake to still offer her his glass.

" I see you've had quite a few glasses already." Noting her not-so-sober state.

She glared at him and smoothed out her dress.

" No shit. Now if you would excuse me, it's quite late and I, for one, am a cheap drunk." She displayed scornful smile on her velvet lips and gathered her gown, obviously ready to stand up and leave.

Being a cheap drunk, however, did not make that exit very possible.

" Easy there."

She disparagingly pushed his grip away from around her body, not exactly thankful for preventing her fall. " Don't touch me."

From nearby, a dashing young man, one of whom had asked for a dance before, approached.

"Look… whoever it is you are… the lady does not want to be disturbed. Now, why don't you take a hint and scram."

Eriol cocked an arrogant eyebrow. " Is that so?"

Somehow during the conversation, the other male had already circled his arms around Tomoyo's waist and stared back at Eriol in defiance. Tomoyo… seemed rather lost.

" Quite yes, English boy."

" Oh really?"

" What are you, retarded?"

" Perhaps." The boy, most likely American by his manner of speech, gawked at Eriol incredulously and directed his attention to a Tomoyo.

" Come on, babe. I'll take you home."

" …"

" It's ok. I'll take you back to my hotel, then."

" Yes. Go on right ahead, Tomoyo. Leave with the boy. I'm sure he'll want to shag you more than I would."

It broke. Something inside her broke when he said that. Like a wound that cracked open and was drenched in salt. He had struck a nerve with his mocking and she shoved the American away, staggering over to her condescending Englishman.

He proudly stood up, back straight, amused at Tomoyo's out of character.

" You," she looked up, " You. I hate you. Why don't you show some goddamned emotions! Don't act like you know me so well! Don't you even dare!"

Part of the room stopped what they were doing and instantly directed their attention to Tomoyo and the still very handsome and composed Eriol.

She failed to notice the attention and despite her usual composure, flailed her arms about, pointing and yelling at him. All the while, an even more condescending smirk graced his lips.

" Why the hell are you smiling! Really! You are incredibleone incredible son of a bitch!"

And once again, she made her exit from the stage. This time, a successful, yet rather, dramatic egress.

Eriol, very aware of the stares pouring down on him, went after her.

* * *

- 

Outside the restaurant, he found Tomoyo without much difficulty. She hadn't strayed far. Not even into the parking lot. She was, in fact, right in front of the door, which she had momentarily before slipped out, pressing the button on her car remote.

" What are you doing?"

" Trying to find my car, you bastard. What does it look like I'm doing."

He gently closed in behind her, his hand reaching to steady her arm. All too quickly, his head lowered to the crook of her refined, bare neck. The mere smell of him made her skin crawl and drove her, more or less, mad. Not in a bad way. Actually, in a very sensuous way. But those thoughts were supposed to be in the past—belonged to the past. It had no place in her heart or her life anymore. It had no right to make her feel the way it did.

He circled his arms around her body, gently urging her into a different direction.

" I'll take you home."

She closed her eyes, dropped the wine glass she had in one hand, and followed.

* * *

- 

On entering the car, she found herself thoroughly exhausted.

Once the car started, she was long gone. Gone from the restaurant and gone from the depressing reality, which tormented her.

* * *

- 

" Tomoyo?"

The engine stopped, the keys turned, the break on. He unclipped the seat belt and leaned over to the passenger seat.

" Tomoyo?"

He received no response. Just a light moan and a vague murmuring under her wine sweet breath.

He looked around. It had been a long, aimless drive and now, he found himself in the driveway of his mansion in Tomoeda. And as he looked around, his gaze fell on Tomoyo again.

_What life have you lived for these past three years, Tomoyo?_

With no answer, he decided for her. With not a lot of ideas playing his head, he ruffled his hair with the brush of his hand._  
_

" Look, Tomoyo. There's plenty of room in the mansion. You stay here for tonight, all right?"

The quiet music of the night played on.

" All right?"

An awkward silence. _All right, then_.

* * *

- 

He opened the door to the passenger seat and slid his arms around her, lifting her weightless frame carefully in his embrace, closing the door with his foot.

She was warm against him. And he wondered why they ever were apart to begin with. And then he remembered the lack of companionship, which had a tendency to accompany their relationship. The lack of direction in their life… other factors. (Ironic for no one would ever believe that the organized heiress and her business-wise husband could ever experience such disorder).

He paused at the massive oak door. And despite a vow he had made long ago, he snapped his fingers and let magic open the door for him.

On stepping into the hall foyer, the home was quiet. Regardless of how vast his manor seemed to be, Eriol's home in Tomoeda was still very quaint, and country-like in the décor of western culture.

There seemed to be no sign of Nakura and Spinel. _Figures_, he thought. Nakura would still be at the wedding. Eriol glanced at the grandfather clock. Its hands marked jointly at 12.

Understandable. After all, if this was at all a Li wedding, it would take its guests on a joy ride 'til dawn, leaving the bride and groom to leave on a plane in the morning for their honeymoon.

Spinel was most likely shipped over to the Kinimoto house to enjoy the love-hate relationship shared with Kero and his miserable sweets.

Yes. Tonight would be one alone with Tomoyo.

He mounted the grand staircase, Tomoyo in secure in his arms, and his mind came to a halting stop. He felt himself being catapulted back three years. To the same spot, the same place, the same moment where it had all began.

The moment when she had finally realized that she had chosen him. Chosen and upheld him higher than she had Sakura. And yet, now, here she was with him again, but firmly slipping back into her reluctant grasp upon her living cherry blossom.

It was more miserable for him than it was for her: while it seems she was ready to forget him, he would never forget her. Not Tomoyo. Never Tomoyo. There was always something there—something that kept them a part, but at the same time, cruelly made them horribly compatible with one another.

It was an unseen forcea force of creationthat just pushed and pushed until they were two broken halves. With those depressing and undecipherable thoughts running circles in his head, he just stood there for a while and reflected upon them.

But Tomoyo squirmed a bit and his line of thought broke. He simply shook his head and proceeded up the stairs. He took her into the room that used to be hers, still kept immaculately in place in the case that she came back to visit—or whatever he hoped she would do. He placed her onto the bed and strolled over to the fireplace, lighting it up and doing so to a couple of the vanilla musk candles kept readily available in every room.

Exiting out of the room, he returned with one lavender candle. He rested it on the coffee table next to her bedside with the intentions that the aromatherapy would ease her mind from the excursion of the night before.

He brushed his hand against his forehead and he caught himself eyeing Tomoyo as she laid upon the bed—dress fitted perfect against her slender body; face in a peaceful repose like that of a doll's; long, sumptuous legs that peeked from the side slits of her silk gown; the black oil tresses that washed over the bed (tresses he would rather have wash over him); her hands rested haphazardly upon the feather comforter; and the lovely, lovely neck that was thoroughly exposed from the off-shoulder dress and its deep downward plunge of a neckline.

_Well, _he resolved, _at least, her dress is comfortable enough to sleep in_. For, of course, Eriol wouldn't dare touch her or attempt to remove any article of clothing from Tomoyo… not that he wanted to, of course… _of course_, he thought again. He did, however, dared enough to unclasp the fastenings of her heels and set her shoes aside, but with that being done, he dared no further.

Besides, if Tomoyo woke up, she would be in a very foul mood to find him undressing her… not that she would be… if things hadn't happened and hearts weren't broken.

He laughed uneasily and scratched his head, thinking to himself, why he was sweating and acting stupid.

He laughed uneasily again to himself and settled himself in the armchair beside her bed. He rubbed his eyes in anxiety and asked Tomoyo, though more to himself, " For what reason, my love, did we ever part, anyways?"

He shook his head and buried his palms into his eyes, exhaustion clearly visible upon his countenance.

He heard her murmur something and he leaned in closer, whispering into her ear, " Tomoyo? Are you awake—did I awaken you? Do you need water or anything?"

But those were merely questions that she continued to mumble answers to under her breath, evidently still very much in slumber.

He then stared at her, careless of all personal boundaries and when he caught himself watching her skin illuminate against the moonlight, he immediately withdrew back into the comfort zone of his chair.

" Yes," he said quietly to himself, " whatever did happen to us?"

She murmured something and this time, he didn't take it into account. But then, as he decided that he was ready for bed, she rolled over to the side facing him and mumbled, " We're done for—done for—gone—me—made you leave. I lost you—me… lost you."

That caught his attention and he settled himself back into his armchair, perplexed and unnerved.

And so, falling into old habits, he found himself watching her sleep before he, too, fell asleep in his chair.

* * *

**author's note** so yea. That was long. Kind of bad, in my opinion. Pointless, you could say, but I was bored. Review if you liked it. Review if you don't. just as long as you do something. I don't even care if you're anonymous, just review it and do something nice for someone today. 

Click it, you know you want to.

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